Hand-to-Hand
by Banji
Summary: [X-posted on AO3] Lance bothers Keith during his practice time. A continuation of Restless (so read that first maybe?).


I like my boys just being around each other and having a nice time ;v; I also like to think there's a little bit of time in between their battles and whatnot, so pretend this fits in there somewhere.

* * *

"Keith!"

The voice rang out loudly across the training deck. Keith, momentarily distracted, sidestepped a swing from the gladiator bot he was sparring with. "End training sequence," he called out, making sure the program actually ended this time before lowering his bayard. He turned to see Lance jogging up to him, grinning like a moron.

"Whatcha up to, buddy?"

Keith shrugged and motioned to his sword. "Just practicing. Did you need something?"

Lance stuck his hands in his coat pockets. "Not really, I was just seeing what you were doing." He pouted slightly. "Pidge and Hunk kicked me out of the lab; said I was too distracting for whatever science thing they were working on. I can't find Allura or Shiro, so they're probably off planning battle strategies or something. And Coran keeps rambling on and on about how vast the universe is. It was bumming me out, so I decided to come find you."

"Oh, okay."

Lance scratched at the back of his neck, embarrassed. It was evident that he hadn't thought of a plan beyond finding Keith. They both stared awkwardly at the floor, then Lance looked at Keith's bayard.

"So, what's it like fighting with a sword?"

Keith lifted his weapon up. He wasn't sure how to describe it. It just felt natural to him, using raw strength to take down his enemies, the thrill of being in such close proximity to them giving him energy to keep fighting.

"It's… fun, I guess," he offered.

Lance studied it for a moment. "I wonder if- may I?" He held out his hands.

Keith placed the sword in his hands, but the instant he let go, it morphed back into a default bayard.

"Aww," Lance whined. He gripped the bayard and waved it around, but it would not change for him.

Keith smirked. "I guess it knows you're not its paladin."

Lance perked up, handing the bayard back to Keith. "Oh! Then maybe I could-" He pulled his own bayard out of his pocket and held it out. It changed into his usual rifle. He frowned, deactivating it. "Come on, you stupid thing! I want a sword!"

Keith watched with minor amusement as Lance stood there, shifting his bayard into a rifle and back again, over and over.

Lance scowled, putting the bayard back in his pocket. "Ah, I thought I could change what weapon it turns into to. Lame."

Keith chuckled. "I don't think it works that way." He studied the pouty teen. Surely he wasn't _that_ bothered by it. "What's wrong, you don't like using your rifle anymore?"

"No, it's not that. I just…" Lance kicked absently at the ground. He seemed nervous. "I was hoping that I could—if you would maybe teach me?"

Keith raised an eyebrow. "You want me to teach you how to sword fight?"

Lance blushed. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not as skilled as you in hand-to-hand combat, so…"

If he didn't know any better, it almost sounded like Lance was complimenting him. Keith turned around and headed towards the back wall of the training room. Lance followed after him.

"H-Hey! If you're too busy, man, it's cool! You don't have to— "

Keith opened a panel on the wall that held several training weapons. He turned around and tossed a long staff at the taller. Lance jumped, fumbling for the weapon before it hit the ground. Keith took a similar staff from the supply and walked back to the middle of the room.

"We'll start with the basics."

Lance beamed. "All right!" he exclaimed, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the side. He ran to meet Keith at the center of the small arena, then looked at his staff. "Wait, why are we using staffs?"

"I'm not giving you a sword, Lance," Keith replied firmly.

Lance scowled, glaring at the staff. "But this isn't a real weapon."

"It's for training purposes, which is what we're doing." Keith gripped his staff and quickly swung down to smack Lance on the back of the hand; not too hard, but hard enough to make him let go of his own staff with a startled yelp. "And yes, it is a _real_ weapon. Just because it's not sharp doesn't mean it can't do damage."

The taller boy hugged his bruised hand and shot a hurt look at Keith.

"Look, do you want me to help you or not?" Keith snapped.

Lance bent down to pick up his staff, his angry blue eyes staying on Keith the whole time. The other boy rolled his eyes and waited for Lance to get back up.

Keith held out his staff and showed Lance the proper way to hold it, as well as the proper stance for fighting. He walked the other boy through slowed-down versions of swings, blocks, and stabs, moving through each one smoothly and precisely. The sound of the staffs making contact - each one a sharp _clack_ \- rang out through the open space. Gradually, they sped up the moves as they became more familiar.

Lance was a fast learner, but he lacked the experience of being up close in a fight: he moved from each position a bit too slowly, and he tended to hesitate when trying to decide which action needed to be taken. Keith had to repeatedly remind himself to have patience, even when Lance kept stepping his feet too close together, or nearly hitting him in the face while swinging his staff overhead, or forgetting which way to block.

After a while, Lance held up his hand. Keith paused mid-step and instantly relaxed his position, setting the tip of his staff on the ground. They had had a good momentum going; he wondered why Lance wanted to stop now.

"Ready to call it a day?"

Lance panted slightly, his face sweaty from the workout, but he looked pleased. He shot a smile at Keith. "No, I just… was wondering when we get to the actual fighting."

Keith narrowed his eyes. This was why he preferred to train alone. "You have zero patience, Lance. You're doing well, but you're not ready for a real fight yet."

"C'mon, I think I can do it."

"Thirty minutes of basic steps do not a qualified fighter make."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Come on, Keith," he goaded. "Don't give me that Mr. Miyagi nonsense. Just give me a chance."

Keith gripped his staff and swung it up to a ready position. "Fine. Don't let me land a hit."

Lance grinned and got into stance, his eyes shining with determination.

"Thanks, Kei— "

Keith shot toward him at full speed. Lance barely had to time register and move his staff up for a side block. Keith struck again and again, causing Lance to back up after every block. Finally, he crouched and swung low, catching the back of the taller boy's heels with the edge of his staff and sweeping them out from under him. Lance landed on his back with a hard _thud_.

Keith stepped back, spinning his staff a few times. He admitted to himself that it felt somewhat gratifying to see how quickly he could overtake the taller boy.

Lance sat up on his side, gasping slightly. The impact must've knocked the air out of his lungs. "What was that?!" he wheezed. "That wasn't fair!"

"I told you not to let me land a hit." Keith picked up Lance's staff. "In a real fight, you're not going to have time to think or argue over what's fair or unfair. You have to be ready for anything."

Lance grumbled as he got to his feet. Keith tossed him his staff, which the taller boy caught and spun into a ready position.

"Lance…"

"Let's go again."

Keith had to admire his friend's stubbornness. He raised his staff.

This time, Lance charged him. The taller boy's movements were a tad slower and sloppier than Keith's, but he was frustrated and taking his anger out on him. Keith had to be quick to block the angry strikes. Still, the fight was over in a matter of seconds, with Lance once again getting his legs swept out from under him.

"How do you keep doing that?" Lance complained, struggling to his feet.

"You have to widen your stance and actually block me, man."

Lance huffed and got into position. "One more time."

Keith smirked. "You don't know when to quit, do you."

The two boys squared off, their weapons at the ready. They advanced in unison, their staffs making contact in the center of the room. Keith was going to make sure this fight was the last. He once again kept Lance at bay by moving quick as lightning, but the taller boy refused to be moved back. When Keith went to sweep his legs out, Lance jumped up and over the staff with a loud "HA!", landing nimbly

Unfortunately for them both, Lance also jumped slightly forward, right into the space Keith was occupying as he shot up from his crouch.

 _WHAM_

Keith fell backward, stunned. His forehead had knocked hard against Lance's face. He pressed his hands to his head, stars flickering as his brain rattled from the impact. Lance was curled up in a ball next to him, clutching his jaw and groaning.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!"

Lance sat up instantly. "I WAS TRYING TO DODGE YOUR STUPID LEG SWEEP, IDIOT." His mouth was bleeding from a cut on his lip. He dabbed at the blood with the back of his hand. "I was trying not to get knocked on my ass again! You could've broken my jaw!"

Keith also sat up, wincing as the room spun. "I told you to widen your stance and BLOCK! Not jump."

"How was I supposed to know you were going to be in the way?"

"Because you WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO JUMP!" Keith flopped back down, too dizzy to get up. "And I wasn't in the way; YOU were in MY way!"

Lance gritted his teeth. "YOU told me I had to think quickly. That's what I did!"

Keith shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead. "You… you…"

Before Lance could retort, he watched as Keith's shoulders began to shake. At first, he thought his friend was crying, but then he realized that the other boy was grinning.

Keith laughed hard, so hard he clutched his chest. It was a good, honest belly laugh; it had been too long since he'd had one of those. All of Lance's frustration evaporated as he, too, began to laugh, albeit hesitantly.

"What's so funny?"

Keith managed to calm himself down, still beaming from ear to ear. "You just—jumped over my swing! And then we—we both—oh my god, that was so stupid!"

"Hey! My plan would've worked if your big fat head hadn't clocked me in the face!"

The two boys looked at one another and burst into laughter again. After a moment of giggling like loons, they lay next to each other in comfortable silence, both staring up at the high ceiling of the training deck.

"Hey Keith," said Lance after a few minutes.

Keith turned toward his friend. "Hmm?"

"Thanks. For teaching me."

Keith smirked, closing his eyes. "Sure thing, buddy."

Lance swallowed. "And for the other night."

Keith said nothing. He'd almost forgotten his and Lance's heart-to-heart a few nights ago.

"Keith?"

Keith opened his eyes and looked at Lance. The taller boy's features were soft and calm, and his blue eyes were kind of sad. Occasionally, Keith could see past the cocky attitude and haughty façade. He knew now that, deep down, Lance was highly insecure, especially when it came to his friends. He was afraid of being alone more than anything.

"You okay, buddy?" Lance asked softly.

Keith nodded, focusing instead on the busted lip he'd accidentally given him. The cut looked angry and swollen, but at least it had stopped bleeding.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"About?" Lance prompted.

Keith sighed. Stubborn as always. "Just… why did you choose me that night? We're not—you're much better friends with Hunk or Pidge."

It was Lance's turn to say nothing. He turned back to looking at the ceiling. "I don't know," he admitted.

Keith studied him, but decided not to push the issue. They lay in silence once more, next to each other, as they had that one night.

"Allura and Coran," Lance said suddenly.

"What about them?"

"They wouldn't understand."

The room had stopped spinning, so Keith sat up slowly and waited for Lance to continue.

"I know they lost basically everyone they've ever known, but it's not the same as just missing your family and friends."

Keith shrugged. "I dunno, it's kind of similar."

Lance shook his head. "No, because – as terrible as it is – there's no chance of them ever seeing those people ever again. At least if we defeat Zarkon, we might be able to go back to Earth. But you see why I couldn't talk to them about it."

Keith nodded. It was a fair point. "So, what about your other friends? What about Hunk or Pidge?"

"I don't really talk to Hunk about deep stuff. It's… kind of weird, I guess? We just don't share that stuff with each other. Same with Pidge, especially now that he's a she. I'd be too embarrassed."

"And Shiro is out because…?"

Lance started fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "He's our leader, not our den mother. Besides, I don't know him that well."

Keith glanced at him. "You don't know me that well, either."

The same could be said for Keith: Lance wasn't even a blip on his radar when they were in the academy. Honestly, the Cuban boy had been sort of forgettable to him back then.

Lance closed his eyes. He suddenly looked tired. "I can't bother Shiro with my stupid insecurities, Keith. He's our leader; I don't want him to think I'm weak or something."

"But sharing your 'stupid insecurities' with me is no big deal, apparently," Keith pointed out.

"That's different," Lance countered.

"How is it different?"

Lance threw his hands up. "I don't know, okay?!"

Keith frowned. He hadn't meant to upset him.

"I don't know," he repeated, softer this time. He blushed ever so slightly. "I just… wanted to… be with you, for some reason."

Keith didn't know how to respond to that, but was saved from making something up as the deck doors opened. Hunk strolled into the training room.

"Hey guys, what's…" he noticed the two of them sprawled on the floor, both sporting bruises on their faces, their weapons still where they landed earlier. "…going on in here?"

Lance jumped up, his demeanor instantly returning to normal cockiness. "Keith was showing me how to take on bad guys _mano-a-mano_." He grabbed his staff and spun it around, then lunged into a stab pose. "Then we cold-cocked each other in the face and had to take a breather."

Keith rose to his feet as well. "Yeah, something like that."

"…Okay," Hunk replied, arching an eyebrow. "Anyways, it's about time to eat, so I was coming to see if you guys were hungry."

"Yes please!" Lance ran to pick up his coat and put away the staffs. Keith retrieved his own jacket and the two of them walked to meet Hunk at the doorway.

"Good training session, buddy," Lance said, wrapping his arm around Keith.

Keith shoved him away with a small grin. "Don't put your stinky armpits near me."

"I don't stink," Lance replied with a scoff. "I smell great; it's the weird Altean soap."

"You do kind of reek, man," Hunk agreed. "You're gonna shower before we eat, right?"

Lance shot him a hurt expression, grabbing his chest in mock pain. "Guys, I'm feeling so attacked right now."

The three of them laughed as they left the training deck to join their friends in the dining hall.

* * *

INB4 someone gets onto me for staff fighting techniques: I do not know, okay? I wanted to write Lance getting his ass handed to him on the training deck, not become an expert at close-range weapons combat. Please.


End file.
